Taken In
by hagiga
Summary: BACKGROUND STORY: What happens when Moriarty returns and attacks Molly but everything is alright now and she and Sherlock are starting a new relationship...


She stumbled into the kitchen, yawned and tightened the rope of his robe around her waist. He stood in front of the sink, gulping a few last drops of water from a glass and turned to her once he was done, placing the cup in the sink.

His eyes skimmed her form, from the dainty pink feet, traveling up the legs and studying how the fabric of his blue robe fit and floated against her form. He noticed the fidgeting of her hands, he looked up, and also noticed her avoiding eyes and the lip biting.

"Molly." Sherlock said.

Her eyes managed, with some resistance, to meet his.

He reached a hand toward her, waiting for her to slide her skinny fingers into his massive palm. When she did, he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her against him. Sherlock hesitantly dipped his head, pecked her lips and then pressed their foreheads together.

Her big uncertain eyes made him smile, similar to that smile she had the fortune to see when he had the (temporary) misfortune to find out about her engagement.

"Molly…" He whispered, rocking them back and forth in a lazy waltz.

A smile spread on her lips and she snaked her arms around his neck and breathed his rich scent in.

Sherlock continued:

"It's good to have you here… Molly Hooper…"

He says her name a lot, just the way it rolls off of his tongue is almost as sweet as kissing her.

He glides a hand up and down her back, she closes her eyes and hums in response.

* * *

John P.O.V

I was looking at the scene from the 221B living room.

Normally, I wouldn't willingly watch two people having a moment, but something about seeing the great Sherlock Holmes in an intimate relationship was just too much to carelessly ignore.

Janine was a different story, it was too rushed, too careless, too un-Sherlock.

But with Molly and Sherlock I had the time, the years, to watch their relationship blossom. They were gentle to each other, in every way. While Molly was simply a gentle human being (unless violence was necessary), Sherlock was gentle by his sense of regret. I caught it in his eyes several times, as though he is constantly reminding himself to make up for the pain he cause her once.

I think it's healthy for him!

It's a reminder to be more considerate.

Goodness, how did I handle him before Molly came along?

But there she was, and there they were, with their mouth sealed against, and arms wound around, each other.

I sighed as the kiss grew feverish and I turned around to go home, I came in to check if Molly was feeling alright after we rescued her from Moriarty, and based on the content sighs and heavy breathing behind me now, I know I left a happy consulting detective and pathologist to be at it for the night.

* * *

He moaned into her mouth and pressed her against the wall of the hallway to his bedroom. She slithered her fingers into the hair on the sides of his head and twisted his roots. All of the sudden her head was thrown back and thudded gently against the wall behind her as he tugged up her robe, nipping at her neck.

Several bumps and thumps against the walls in the hallway later, she found herself pressed into his mattress, with his body atop of hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her chest against his.

After a few minutes they finally paused, bodies and foreheads pressed, heavy eyes with fully dilated irises studying each other.

"Molly…" He murmured and took in a long breath "... If I … If I were to fall in love and get married…" He pressed his mouth to hers for a few heated seconds before parting their lips and continuing "Which I do not know if I can do…" She grew worried "But if I did, I am most certain that you would be the one I will want to spent the rest of my life with."

She spent a few seconds taking in his words, and then they spent the rest of the night taking in each other.

And then every moment since, was spent the same way.


End file.
